Positive
by oh godric
Summary: If you were to look up both the best, and the worst, days of my life ever, you'd find yourself faced with October 18th 2023. Hogwarts was a place for learning, a place to make new friends and have the time of your life. Somehow, I managed to bypass all this and find my way into Albus Potter's arms, and the rest spiralled down from there - pregnancy included.
1. Parties & Bad Decisions

Parties were the bane of my existence.

Who invented them, anyway? All they did was remind people they were getting older, slowly but surely. And parties like these, full of drunken idiots grinding on the dance floor, well, they were less than appealing.

Scratch that: Drunken students were the bane of my existence.

I actually didn't mind parties all too much. I just preferred nice, quiet ones, preferably with adults present, where I wasn't forced to bear witness to two of my best friends sticking their tongues as far down each other's throats as they could.

I wrinkled my nose as I turned to Grace, slowly sipping my drink through a straw. It slowed the effects of alcohol, apparently. "Sometimes I'm not so sure you and your sister came from the same womb."

Beside me at the small, circular table sat a girl of seventeen. Her eyes, a bright shade of cobalt blue, highlighted the natural honey tones to her hair. Despite its dark, coppery colour, streaks of this lightness made the brown appear soft, and it fell in short waves to the top of her chest – her usual style. Much like me, Grace did not particularly enjoy parties – especially ones thrown by Slytherins – but nevertheless, the two of us had come out on this rare occasion to support the rest of our gang, two of which were paying us absolutely no attention.

Shaking her head, Grace's expression morphed into one of disgust as she spoke. "I wouldn't either if it wasn't for the fact my Gran made me watch the homemade video of our birth." If at all possible, her expression became one of increased repulsion. "Honestly, it's only Will! She sees enough of him as it is."

I nodded my head in agreement. Across the way Grace's twin sister, Isabelle, was gyrating to the pulsating beat, lips glued against those of Will Carstairs's. Both of their messy, sweaty, blonde heads seemed to morph into one as Izzy strained to keep their lips in contact, the height difference extraordinarily high despite her killer heels.

"They look a mess," I laughed as Will pushed her off, only to swig back another portion of beer before reeling her back in. "Who brought this Muggle stuff anyway?" I questioned, eyeing up Will's can. "Nobody's realised how strong it is."

"I'm not sure," Grace replied. The two of us actually had Muggle drinks of our own, but after carefully observing the units per bottle and alcohol percentage, we had decided these WKD things were safe enough. "But it's so nice," then, after a moment's thought, "probably Albus Potter."

I shrugged. It was his party, so it was highly likely. "I suppose. I doubt it was Scorpius Malfoy at any rate."

"True," said Grace and as we entered a lull in conversation, it became clear she had little interest in the matter of who bought what. Come to think of it: neither did I. But because Grace was such a sweet natured girl, she switched topics and we began to chat once more, slowly sipping on our drinks as we observed our partying schoolmates from a safe distance.

"So, where's Avery right now?"

Avery – my elder sister – was a curse breaker, yet she was also a traveller. Her work took her across the globe and although she had been presented with the opportunity to settle in a singular country, she never took it. Avery was a thrill seeker: always awaiting the next great adventure.

"Australia," I answered. "I got a postcard from her yesterday. She says it's unbelievably warm, which is a real pity since we're stuck here in freezing cold Scotland."

Before my sister's departure all those years ago I had made her promise that wherever she went, she must send me a postcard. And she did. Underneath my bed, closed up in a little wooden trunk, were almost a hundred different postcards from a variety of cities, countries, towns and continents. Melbourne was just another to add to the ever-growing list.

"I know that Isabelle and I don't always see eye to eye," at this point Grace cast a glance at her still otherwise-engaged sister, "but I can't imagine hardly ever getting to see her."

I shrugged my shoulders. "I'm used to it now. She moved out years ago." And before I could say any more on the matter, a great big boulder came hurtling towards us.

"Girls!" He yelled as he lifted me from my seat and swung me round, planting a soppy wet kiss on my cheek. "You'll never _believe _what just happened!"

"Felix! FELIX!" As he set me back down next to Grace I giggled like a little school girl, wiping furiously at my soggy cheek. Huh, maybe the alcohol _was_ getting to me. "Okay, care to explain what's happened?" I asked, and then, "Ahh, calmly, if you don't mind!"

"Right, okay," and for the first time I noticed how flushed Felix's cheeks were as he swung a chair round from behind him, straddling it backwards. His grin split open his face as he begun to speak. "Well I was just over by the drinks table and you'll never guess who started talking to me!"

Grace rolled her eyes. "Felix, you're seventeen, right?" Without a pause to let him answer, the brunette continued. "Your cheeks are rouged, indicating you did a little more than talking with this mysterious guy. As an of-age seventh year with morals, your guy friend must either be in our year or the one below. No way would you snog anyone younger." A grin formed on my own lips as I began to work it out. We Ravenclaws weren't just always book smart, you know. Our deduction skills could rival those of Sherlock Holmes. Grace spoke again, "Your excitement, however, suggests sixth year because you've likely spoken to everyone in ours. The fact you know _of _the sixteen year old though means that he's in our house. He's a Ravenclaw. And that narrows it down to –"

"Lysander Scamander," I broke in, hardly able to hold in the girlish shriek on the tip of my tongue. "The only mildly attractive – and interesting – guy in the whole of the sixth year dorm."

Beside me, Grace nodded with intent. We high fived under the table: _Watson and Holmes on the case_. Across from us, Felix sat there, flabbergasted.

He breathed out deeply, pushing all the air from his lungs, "You guys have _got _to stop doing that."

Grace shrugged innocently though her eyes twinkled mischievously. "What can I say, we're not Eagles for nothing."

"I'm a Ravenclaw too yet I don't have your mad skills," he switched his face to one of fake sadness: bottom lip out, puppy dog eyes activated.

I tutted as I wagged a finger wildly. "It takes practice and patience, Fabulous Felix." Oh god, this alcohol was really flooding my system. _Fabulous Felix? _"Anyway, what happened with you and Lysander?"

Now we had switched back to his star subject, Felix's eyes lit up with delight. "_Oh it was wonderful_," he gushed, holding a hand to his heart. "I'd just picked up another drink because it's so goddamn hot in here, but when I turned back around he just sort of – er, came out of nowhere - and I ended up sloshing the drink all over his shirt. Not that I minded of course, it was a white shirt if you know what I mean," he said with a suggestive wink. "I apologised and apologised and I don't know, he's so hot I just didn't know what to say. Well, eventually he just shut me up with his lips and we spent a good ten minutes snogging in front of the drinks table."

With a final sigh, Felix finished his tale, laying a weary, well snogged, head down on the edge of the table, a smile still adorned on his lips.

Isabelle and Will broke in then, summoning chairs over as they fell about giggling and guffawing. Felix raised his head as we all (me, Grace and Felix, that is) turned to face the newcomers.

"Having fun out there, were we?" I smirked, raising an eyebrow.

At least Will had the decency to blush. Isabelle smirked right back, sliding her hand onto Will's upper thigh as he snaked his around her waist. "Definitely," Isabelle grinned with an air of suggestiveness. "Now go and get me another drunk Goldstein, I've barely seen you on your feet all night even after I let you borrow my new dress!"

I frowned at her pout. "I didn't _ask_ to wear this," I said, tugging on the shiny black fabric of the borrowed dress. "You basically forced it over my head. I don't think that constitutes as the same thing."

With a wave of her hand, Izzy shrugged me off. "Whatever, please just get me another – my feet are killing me."

I rolled my eyes but stood up nonetheless, yanking the skirt down as far as possible to ensure my modesty was protected. Truth be told, the shortness of the ensemble made me very uncomfortable. I felt like I was about to flash my knickers at any second, despite the fact other girls were wearing far shorter garments and succeeding in this charade.

I snatched up a random cup as I approached at the drinks table, downing it in one. Spluttering, I tried to wipe the disgustingly strong taste from my tongue but it was to no avail. Ugh, there wasn't even any water to wash away the bitter taste. Just alcohol and, oh yes!, more alcohol.

"So, I saw you and Holbrook share a kiss back there," the sound of the voice made me jump as I swung around, clutching my heart. I was greeted with a disarray of black hair, emerald green eyes that sparkled in the dim light and a very luminous birthday badge, pinned to the front of his shirt. There was no mistaking it, it was the man of the hour: birthday boy Albus Potter.

"Felix?" I spluttered, wondering why on earth Albus was talking to me of all people, especially about such topics. "He's gay!"

There was no mistaking the look of shock that flashed across his face before it returned to its casual default. "He is?"

"_Yes,_" I stressed, finally bringing my hand away from my chest. It hung limply by my side as I suddenly became aware of the fact I had arms. What did I usually do with them? They just felt so awkward all of a sudden; hanging there like deadweights. I picked up a cup, just for something to do. "I thought everyone knew he was gay. He doesn't exactly hide it."

"No, I just –" He shook his head, strands of his messy fringe falling into his eyes. "Never mind."

Albus Potter wasn't that much taller than me, I noticed. Perhaps four inches or so higher than my five foot seven self. I'd never seen him so close before, and as my eyes roved his face I noticed many things I hadn't before. His cheeks were podgy, for one, full and a little baby faced. Not in a fat way, but in a cute kind of way. They made him look innocent and only served to heighten his good looks. On his forehead, a small dint was inlaid from Merlin knows what, a jagged little scar above his left eye. I couldn't help but smirk a little at the irony. "Happy birthday," I said into the silence that had descended as we stared at each other. Hid bage continued to flash obscenely between us.

"Thanks," he replied and then it returned.

I had no idea why I was still lingering. This meeting was awkward to say the least, and Isabelle would wonder where her drink was if I didn't get back soon.

"You look nice," he coughed, reaching a hand to the back of his neck. No doubt about it, he had been drinking. The scent of whiskey clung to his breath as it washed over me, a strangely calming effect. "Want to dance?" he asked.

And for some insane reason I couldn't even begin to fathom, I nodded. I said yes, put the cup I'd been clinging to down and grabbed his slightly sweaty hand as he led me into the throng of people.

There we swayed; my arms around his neck, his around my waist. Our style of dancing unrelated to the pulsation of the techno beat, but perfect all the same. I laid a head on his shoulder, the feel of his heart beating against my temple. He tilted my chin up, looking at me with a mix of emotions I could barely detect in his eyes. Lust, passion, _want_.

October 18th would be a date to remember.

* * *

**A/N: Woo, my first story is up! I'd just like to say that although yes, this is going to be your typical pregnancy fic, I'm going to try make it as original and realistic as possible. I've done a lot of research for this! I'd love it if you could review and let me know what you think, but just a read by its self is more than enough. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle gets credit for the wonderfully intelligent creation of Mr Sherlock Holmes and John Watson whilst Jo Rowling (obviously) gets the credit for creating such a fabulous world to set a fic in. I'm thinking next chapter on Sunday!**


	2. Morning Sickness & Charms Revelations

The attack was over in seconds. I gasped, head still positioned directly above the toilet seat. Woozy, that's how I'd describe how I was feeling. Nauseous. Ill. Positively horrid.

Outside a thin layer of snow dusted the grounds preparing for the fast-approaching Christmas. I wasn't in the mood for winter games though – I hadn't been feeling too great for several weeks. My frequent bathroom visits hardly went unnoticed but I told the concerned – let's face it, mainly just Grace – the truth. I didn't know what was wrong, just that I had become a mystical fountain of vomit.

Massaging my boobs – they were quite sore, probably because of gravity's continuous pull on them as I hunched over the toilet every five seconds – I stood wearily, tightening my robe back around myself as I conjured up a glass of water, which I sipped slowly as I padded back into my dorm. The occupant of the bed closest me stirred as I walked past, shifting under the dusky blue duvet.

"E-Emilia?" she called out. Ruby pulled herself into a sitting position as she rubbed at her eyes. I was annoyed to see that her hair was almost perfectly straight despite the fact she'd just been asleep. Unlike mine, which preferred an au naturel fluffy frizz bomb look after such activities, she could have probably gone out like that and no one would have been able to tell the difference.

"What are you doing up at this time?" she questioned with a concerned expression. "Were you sick again?"

"Morning," was the first thing I said with a weak smile. "Yeah, I was, sorry if I woke you."

"It's no problem, I hope you're okay."

One of the best things about Ruby Moon was that she was always so kind and friendly. We hadn't really spoke all too much in the six years we'd known each other, but she was a damn sight nicer than the other girl included in our dorm – Imogen Saunders. Ruby was the shy type, quiet and rarely seen having fun. Boys weren't interested in her though I couldn't decipher why – she was far prettier than the majority of bimbos in this school, Imogen included.

"Have you been to see Madam Pomfrey?" she asked.

"Pomfrey? No, she keeps telling me I spend far too much time down in the Hospital Wing as it is." Which was probably more than true. Quidditch could be a fun sport right up until the moment a Beater aimed a Bludger your way. "Besides, I'm only throwing up. No biggie."

Ruby frowned. "You have been ill for the past week and a bit though, are you sure it's not something more?"

I raised my eyebrows. "Like what?"

She shrugged in an 'I-don't-know-I'm-not-a-Healer' kind of way. Perfectly understandable, I had to admit. "I'd get checked out though if I were you though. Might be a bug going round."

"I'll consider it," I lied just so she'd go back to sleep. I was already feeling guilty about the fact I'd probably been keeping her up all night/morning hurling up my stomach again. Then again, both Grace and Imogen seemed to be sound asleep. Maybe she was just a light sleeper.

I tried to get back to sleep but I knew it was a pointless attempt. I was the type of person that once I was up, I was up. Instead, I decided that in true nerd fashion I'd go down to breakfast and get some studying in before lessons began. Grace was still conked out anyway.

By the time I'd reached the hall it was still early enough for not a lot of people to be around, but late enough for no one to look at me strangely for having breakfast at such a time. The past week I hadn't really been eating that much because of the whole throwing up constantly thing. I was a Goldstein through and through though and the hunger pangs were starting to get to me. I managed to munch my way through half an English breakfast, which I deemed safe enough for me not to want to regurgitate up. Anymore and that feeling might have gone away.

Pulling a Transfiguration book from my bag, I started reading up on human transfiguration and how it could be achieved. Professor Chang had said it was a topic that would be covered after the Christmas holidays and I wanted to get a head start now.

As the morning wore on more students began to fill the Great Hall as they streamed in for breakfast. The noise got to a point where I found it nearly impossible to concentrate on the words I was reading and so I replaced the textbook to my bag.

It wasn't long before Felix and Will were clamouring into the seats opposite me, animatedly discussing Quidditch or something.

"Hi," I said when they didn't offer their own form of greeting.

"Morning," said Felix as the boys paused their debate in search of food.

Will kind of nodded at me in a 'What's up?' way as he pulled a tray of bacon towards him.

"Is Grace up yet?" I directed at him because Felix had begun to pour milk into his cereal and he was a really horrible multitasker.

As I'd predicted, I got little response as Will began to stuff his face. It wasn't often I ate across from these two but when I did I was always incredibly disgusted.

I sighed and decided to try eating a little more food. Toast would be a good idea. Of course, as soon as I had picked up a slice none other than Will Carstairs knocked it out of my hands as his and Felix's conversation resumed.

"Puddlemere are well better than the fucking Tornados!" Will yelled at Felix, food spraying out of his mouth, arms flailing everywhere.

"Get your head out of your arse, the Tornados have won the cup three times in a row this year," said Felix, puffing up his chest as if he were personally responsible for their success. He might have looked more magnificent if it wasn't for the remains of Will's breakfast imbedded in his dark hair. "Well on the way to a fourth year!"

"Yeah but Puddlemere have _the best coach going_," Will's smug look suggested that he thought his statement on the standard of Oliver Wood's coaching might well win the argument. He was wrong. "They were down last season but only because Wheatcroft and Bale were injured."

"Ugh, whatever," said Felix. "Listen Em, you understand me. Tutshill are better than Puddlemere, aren't they."

I looked from one boy to the other. They were so startlingly different in appearance, yet so similar in personality. Felix was the dark one; messy hair and wide brown eyes hidden behind framed glasses. Will was lighter with his distant Veela heritage; pale blonde hair and very silvery blue eyes. Felix was taller by an inch or so but Will was wider in the shoulders. Both were good looking and both knew it far too well for my liking. They were used to getting what they wanted from life, but I wasn't about to appease them.

"You both know I'm Cannons born and bred." I said, sticking true to my heritage. They sucked dragon balls but Dad had been buying me their gear since before I was born and it kind of just stuck. I was loyal to my team.

"No, no, no," Will shook his head. When he spoke his mouth was mostly empty and so I was not showered in his choice of breakfast, thankfully. "You weren't listening, Em. We're asking who's better: Tutshill Tornados or Puddlemere United?"

"Okay for starters I really don't give a shit," I scowled. "They're both good teams, but they both have their faults. Can't you just agree to disagree?"

"Jeesh," Will turned away from me as a particularly leggy blonde walked past in a skirt so short it should have been classified as a belt. Good job Isabelle wasn't around to see that. "What's got your knickers in a twist? You usually love a good debate!"

"Not today," I grumbled, flinging my another uneaten slice of toast down and laying a pounding head against the table.

The rest of breakfast passed in a normal way. Felix and Will realised they'd left their Transfiguration homework up in the dorm and had left ten minutes ago; I fished my Transfiguration book back out and decided I could read through the noise. Grace had joined me during this transition, but she was last minute tutoring a nervous second year, who had a Charms test this morning and so I read my book in near silence.

Five minutes before the end of breakfast, Isabelle came rushing in, green and silver tie hung lopsided against her fitted blouse, hair a tangled mess.

"Morning," she gasped out as she perched herself on the edge of the table. Not even the bench – the table. "I overslept, what do we have first?"

"Transfiguration," I supplied.

Isabelle winced. "Good job I woke when I did then, Chang would have my head. Can you fix my hair?"

I nodded, bringing my wand out of my pocket and flourishing it at her head. Her hair – a honey blonde unlike her sister's - neatened its self into a nice little side pony which was one of my personal favourites on her.

"C'mon anyway or else we'll be late." I said, shouldering my bag. Izzy shoved a slice of toast in her mouth before hopping up after me, Grace lagging behind as we set off towards our first class.

In the entrance hall we ran into the twins's cousin, Scorpius Malfoy, and his friend Albus Potter. "Hey," Scorpius greeted us with a grin, though it was meant more so for his cousin than I.

Albus nodded his head at Izzy and I in lieu of saying hello. I refused to make eye contact with him though, instead admiring how smooth and polished the castle floor was for such an old building, ignoring the steady blush that was creeping up my cheeks. Remarkable, really. Izzy pulled on ahead, talking about Christmas plans with Scorpius. I presumed Albus had followed them until I was scared half to death by someone grabbing my wrist and swinging me into a concealed corridor behind a tapestry.

"_What are you doing?_" I hissed through the gloom, his hand still covering my wrist.

"We need to talk," Albus shrugged. "You keep avoiding me."

As any sane person would, naturally.

"Oh _I _keep avoiding _you_?" Sarcasm dripped from my voice. "Really, you could have just _asked me _to talk to you instead of abducting me on my way to class. Honestly!" What type of person did that? God, he made me so frustrated and I'd barely ever spoke to him.

"And you'd have said yes would you?" He asked with a sceptical expression. "Don't kid me. Ever since my party you've avoided me like the plague, Goldstein."

"Oh is that so, _Potter_?" I snapped as I wrenched my wrist from his grip. Really, who could blame me? "Do you ever take your overly large head out of your arse long enough to think maybe I just don't want to talk to you right now?"

"Well then when _do_ you want to talk to me?" he raked a hand through his untidy hair, doing nothing to help tame it. His eyes shifted from side to side, trying not to make contact with mine.

"Never!" I shrieked, and with that I stormed out of the corridor.

Over dramatics was an expertise of mine.

I arrived at Transfiguration just as everyone else was getting into their seats but it didn't stop Chang from giving out to me.

Grace, who had apparently made it in time, muttered a quiet 'where were you?' to me as Albus came into the room and Chang started laying into him instead.

"I'll explain later," I muttered back which appeased her for the meantime.

It was the middle of Charms when I realised. Flitwick had been talking the class through the charm that could be used to turn vinegar into wine – which was more than a little irresponsible, in my opinion – and had then asked us to practice it ourselves. Charms was one of my best subjects but no matter how many times I tried to turn it to wine, the sour vinegar remained.

Halfway through the class and even Izzy – who was only taking Charms to please her parents – had managed to perform the charm once. I was one of the very few still sat there struggling for the first time in my life. Professor Flitwick noticed and hurried over to mine and Grace's desk.

"Come on Miss Goldstein, just point your wand at the flask. That's right and –"

But his words were cut off as, with a loud bang, the flask exploded right in front of me. My attempts at magic were apparently futile. Everyone in the class turned to stare as smoke filled the room.

And that's when I began to cry.

Not even delicate little tears; they were big raking sobs that shook my body.

"What's wrong Emilia?" Felix called out from across the room, jumping from his chair.

"N-Nothing I-I just –"

"Maybe it would be best for you to take Miss Goldstein out for a moment, Miss Chesterfield," squeaked Flitwick, but as Grace began to guide me up, Isabelle intercepted, pulling me up forcefully before marching me out of the classroom, down the corridor and into a deserted room. As the door slammed shut she turned to face me, arms folded tightly as she looked at me in worry.

"What's wrong, Em?" she asked, leaning against a desk. Her blue eyes, the same shade as her sister's, were wide with worry. Izzy usually shook off most of her own emotions, deeming them 'impractical', so in a way it was nice to see she really did care.

But that didn't really matter because I still couldn't explain what was wrong. For the past few weeks I'd been constantly throwing up, my head had been pounding, my emotions had been all over the place and I just didn't understand why.

Until now.

"Emilia, hon. Please just tell me what's wrong. I can help!" pleaded Isabelle, but I wasn't sure she could help me with my problem. Because it was dawning on me what exactly was wrong. I knew my symptoms – you'd have to be a fool not to. I knew what they were and what they meant.

"It's just – It's just my hormones. Time of the month, you know the drill."

Well, I had to check if my assumptions were right before I went around blurting out the news, didn't I?

Isabelle looked at me sceptically. She wasn't stupid, of that much I was certain. After a few moments, when I'd stopped crying and had conjured a tissue to dry up my face, she nodded and seemed to accept the lie I was feeding her.

"Okay, if you're positive."

Oh Izzy, the irony.

* * *

**A/N: So, second chappie is up! What do you think? The characters have been developed a little more here and -shock- Emilia thinks she's pregnant!**


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